Black Shells
by PartyPat22
Summary: A fire-team of professionals corner their prey, a man who has no idea that they're coming. . .


Smith rounded the concrete corner and fired off a single bolt of glowing, superheated plasma with one fluid motion. A tall suit of old T-45 stood with a white-hot halo atop it's riveted frame, much like a christmas tree with a bright, light-up star at it's apex. "Clear", came the signal through their short-range helmet comms, and the fire-team of four advanced into the hall as one with plasma rifles raised. They passed the headless, power-armored corpse and reached a small door.

One took up position behind the corpse and covered the opening with the emitter of his rifle. Smith took hold of the brass handle as the other two stacked silently against the wall on either side. With a nod of his Mk. II helm, he turned the knob and thrust his rifle into the next room. He crouched as he walked through the threshold, allowing his squad mates a line of sight.

A single console sat in the center of the dimly lit concrete chamber, with a bald statue standing immobile next to it. Five cots were spread around the room, all full of sleeping bodies 'cept one. Three had combat armor, laser rifles, and various useful pieces of equipment such as geiger counters and NVGs. The target had a full environment suit laying neatly beside his makeshift bedding, with a thinner layer of lead-lined scrubs on while he slept.

The team fanned out and stood over the apparent mercs, while Smith stood behind the immobile humanoid with a weapon capable of passing through it's head and melting a hole in the wall. "Weapons free" came the order, and three men died within an instant of simultaneous flashes of light. The target woke up with a start, pushing himself off of the ground and grabbing for an odd looking pistol. A well aimed shot flew past him, singeing his eyebrows and freezing him in place like the unconscious human in the center of the room.

Two demons from his nightmares grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him off his feet; his face paled to the color of a picket fence as his body went limp in their ceramic arms. A third devil approached him, and placed a finger at it's own neck. "An android?" The meek captive stared into the opaque, incomprehensible lenses upon the horror's face. Dark eyebrows framed a pair of bulging eyes. The pale, thin man gulped and tried to stutter out a yes, but ended up nodding once instead.

Smith opened a satchel attached to the hip of his armored shell and grabbed a roll of duct tape before tossing it at the specialist handling the brief interrogation. The man caught it with one hand before raising it to the scientist's face. "I tend to be a bit rough. This is the only choice you'll get. Put it on." The timid man's gaze flickered incredulously between the tape and the giant suit of armor holding it before he realized what the man meant. With a startled cry he began to shout "One-One-Three-Eigh-" before a hydraulically-driven fist rammed into his small paunch of a belly. The two soldiers to either side of his shuddering body held him aloft all the while, ignoring the gasping wheezes he made. The interrogator passed his rifle to Smith after the latter had taken another good look at the petrified figure. The zzzzppt of unfurling tape made the captive look up again with hopeless resignation in his eyes. Hard fingers pressed into his gaunt cheeks as a strip of insulation tape covered his mouth tightly. Squirming and grunting did little to change his situation.

Smith marched through the only exit while the interrogator got to work disconnecting the terminal from it's wires. The giant to the muffled egghead's right let go of the poor fellow's aching shoulder, took a few brisk strides, and picked the paralyzed, androgynous person up by the throat before dropping it over his shoulder. Smith walked back in after a few brief moments. "The pistol" reverberated through their helmets, and the one with the terminal and rifle tucked under his right arm reached down and swiped it up gingerly. A few dozen seconds later, the complex was unoccupied save for corpses and a few vermin in the foundation.

A few hours later, three men in onyx jackets filed calmly into the chamber. Black sunglasses even darker than their vests concealed their scanning eyes. The head of the short line spoke aloud as if to no-one in particular. "Four dead, plasma, caught unaware. No sign of priority alpha or beta. Removed electronics. No signs of resistance. Defection a possibility. Abandoned belongings will be brought in for examination."


End file.
